


Where I Live Now

by notenoughtogivebread



Series: 250 Glee Fic Prompts [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Homelessness, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:24:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughtogivebread/pseuds/notenoughtogivebread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In response to the 250 Glee Fic Prompts Challenge #41. Sam Evans is good at adjusting and making do. But friends help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where I Live Now

Sometimes it was nice, like tonight, with Quinn sitting in the far bed reading aloud from one of the Magic Tree House books, her hands playing with Stacey’s hair as Sam’s little sister fell asleep in her lap. And with Kurt over in the tiny “study nook,” really just a wooden board that stretched across one wall and acted like a countertop, but Kurt had made it somewhere special. Tonight he’s teaching Stevie how to “transform your workspace into the coolest fort”—after studying, of course. (Sam hadn’t known at first exactly what all that meant, but it involved Finn’s old Star Wars sheets and some ridiculous throw pillows from what Kurt called “the worst makeover idea ever.”) And, you know, it felt normal, like, hanging out with his friends and playing with the younger kids. It was alright.

But then, you know, sometimes it sucked, too. He hadn’t even started his own homework, and he had to leave his friends in the room a little longer so he could shower after finishing his shift at Roman Delight. And, honestly, geometry was messing him up. Measuring angles and all was cool, but then you had to explain how you knew it. Standing under the shower he thought despairingly of all the work he had to do before he could sleep. He wished all homework could be like the assignments for art class, but no chance—and a test on The Scarlet Letter and another in chem. loomed later this week, and…

And he still had to work every night at the pizza place just to help make rent on this dump. The timer he had set went off then, and he jumped out of the shower, saving some hot water for Dad for when he came home in an hour or so. He shook his hair out, then dried as best he could with the one towel left, pulled on his sleep pants, and slipped back into the room. The kids were quiet, and the room was dark. Stacey was tucked in their bed, and Stevie’s feet stuck out from the nest Kurt had made in the fort. Kurt and Quinn were huddled by the one little lamp on the dinette table by the door.

He slumped down next to them and pulled out his geometry book. But before he could open it, Kurt reached out and took the book. “This is crazy, Sam. You have to get some sleep.”

“I have to pass geometry so I can make it into 11th grade, dude. And that’s not gonna happen if I can’t do these proofs.”

Quinn’s voice was soft, and so was her hand where it rested on Sam’s arm. “And that’s why you and I are going to have a math session tomorrow morning.”

“I have to get the kids on the bus.”

“Won’t your mom be home by 7:30? Just for tomorrow, can’t she stay awake for them? I’ll get my mom to let me drive her to work, so I’ll have the car, and I’ll pick you up. We can work this out, Sam.”

He felt the exhaustion in him bubbling up and spilling over as he watched Kurt cross the room to turn down the blanket on his bed and fluff the pillow—his own pillow from home, not one of the old hotel pillows. It just looked so inviting. Just this once, just this one night, could he let his friends take care of him?

Tomorrow he could tackle geometry. Tomorrow he could give up his lunch hour to work on chem. or read that confusing book. Tomorrow he could grab some fruit and snacks on the way out of the lunch room so the kids would have something on the weekend. But tonight, tonight, he was giving up the fight for a few hours. He let himself slip into sleep, barely hearing the snick of the door as his friends slipped out of the room.


End file.
